Civilizing
by The Other Girl
Summary: "Nomads are only good dead. Some of us believe we can kill the Nomad inside of you." After the comet the Air Nomads are gone but in the corner of the Fire Nation five girls are about to be part of an experiment to see if an Air Nomad can be converted.
1. The End Part One

(A/N: This is not a happy story. I don't own anything. I was just thinking about the tragedy of the Air Nomads at the same time as how people destroy cultures. And I thought if the Fire Nation was as smart as they seem they wouldn't stop at just killing them all. They'd be nastier than that.)

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**The End (Part One)**

Mali knew about war. It was something the other peoples of the world did. Air Nomads, the Sisters had told her, knew how to let things go. To forgive.

The Western Air Temple has been the closest to the Fire Nation. They were first. Mali had woken up one day and the world was ending all around her: with ash in the air and a smell her mind would not place. Death, she'd decide later. It smelled like death.

A rush then, her instinct was to fly but her head caught up, there were too many already. Gliders burning bright fell hard back to Earth. Mali ran- away from the solders in Fire Nation red and into the Temple. It was a Holy place. No one would hurt her in there.

Something grabbed her leg and Mali jumped, but it was only Dorie. Dorie who was only seven, whose arm was singed, who cried silently, with a string of beads meant for a fully trained Sister wrapped tight around her neck. No time to question how; Mali yanked her forward and then there were two running. She tried not to listen to the sound. There was too much screaming. Too much everything and-

The doors to the main Temple were burned and closed. A swerve then, Mali kept panicked feet running with no destination in mind. The Bison? They were far away from here with solders in between. Anyone on a glider was blasted out of the sky. She could climb, though she'd never had to try before, or hide in her room. She wanted a Nun desperately but she couldn't see them or find them, every friend and every enemy blurred together into streaks of orange and red. There was nothing to be done but—

Dorie shrieked and Mali turned back: three Fire Nation Soldiers dead ahead. They followed, of course they did, but with air on her side she had to be faster. Had to. But the fire moved them forward and the shortest of the three grabbed her hair. Her hair, her stupid hair that she was supposed to cut short soon but had liked too much. Mali thought about all the haircuts she wasn't going to get, and the arrows she might have earned to help change the shape of her face, and how much it was going to hurt to burn. She cringed away from his hands and hoped Dorie's death would be faster.

But instead of fire there was a rag and instead of death came sleep. Mali dreamt it was a nightmare and felt relief.

When she woke up there was a calm that sat heavy on the world. They were burning the bodies. With funeral rites for a Fire Sage her people were burned into dust. But she wasn't alone.

Dorje leaned against Mali gently. Jampa, the best at Air Ball at thirteen, sat looking up at nothing in particular. Sister Nima was always telling her not to be so serious. Khalama and Lasya, who looked so alike it made people wonder, still had their eyes closed for sleep. They were tied together in a long row with mouths shut tight with cloths and arms and legs held tight. No movement.

There were five of them left. Mali the oldest at fourteen closed her eyes and tried to remember how to breathe. She didn't question why. It was too large to contemplate and they'd never done anything wrong. Not ever. The Fire Nation was supposed to be closest to them- because Air and Fire both depended on breath and now no one was going to ever breathe again and Mali, watching another added to the pyre, found herself crying openly. Some of them were so small. The sound alerted a soldier and she was put to sleep again. She felt herself undone and picked up, the way he'd picked up the bodies of her people, and he carried her off to someplace unseen.

"I'm sorry," he said. Or maybe her dream said. "It's better this way."

It still smelled like smoke and she would not be comforted. Mali cried in her sleep.


	2. The End Part Two

(A/N: I own nothing.)

**The End **

**(Part Two)**

"Mali?" Something pushed at her side. "Please wake up, Mali!"

She did, with a start, and found herself in a room she'd never seen before. Jampa, though it took her a moment to recognize the familiar baldhead in the dark, continued to tap her until she pushed the hand away. "I dreamt—"

Jampa's face reflected nothing and everything all at once. She didn't cry but it sat heavy all the same. "No, you didn't."

"Where are we?" said Mali. It was easier to think about. The room was empty of decoration but it couldn't be a Temple room. It was built wrong. All steel and closed in on all sides. Jampa shrugged her shoulders. "How long have we been here?" Jampa shrugged again. "Is there anything-"

Jampa pointed to the wall. Mali sat up and looked at it, really looked at it now that her eyes had adjusted, and saw something hanging off the side. Like a cut. Jampa reported the information quickly and factually. "Something in the wall. I don't know."

Mali walked over and examined it closely. It wasn't big enough to fit much through— only about the size of a lemur at most. She pushed at it, kicked it, bent a gust of Air, but it didn't budge.

But it did open, suddenly from the outside, and Mali jumped with Airbender grace to the other side of the small room in her surprise. Two red bundles were pushed through and it was sealed again with ease. Jampa pointed as if to say _See? See? _

She should have pushed at it with Airbending and figured out who it was. She should have grabbed the hand while she had the chance or _something_. How could she be so stupid? Mali pushed herself up and knocked on the ceiling. The walls. Stupid stupid stupid.

"Stop it," Jampa hadn't left the ground the whole time Mali had been awake. "Just- don't get distracted. I want to go back."

There wasn't anywhere to go back to. Maybe they could go to the Eastern Temple or the Northern or Southern. Mali imagined Monks and Nuns together to the rescue but put the thought aside. They were still gone and they were still stuck and she was still stupid. She went to look at the bundles instead.

Fire Nation robes, like the ones their friends had once worn, comfortable and confining. Mali looked down at her own robes. They smelled like ash and somewhere along the way the seam on her arm had split open. The black was still under her fingernails and in her hair. But why would anyone give her Fire Nation clothing? It wasn't right. But it did make it obvious where they were. It was only the way that needed answering.

Jampa looked at the pile carefully before slowly starting to disrobe. Mali felt the frustration coming back. The fear as well. "What are you doing?"

"I have Sister Nima in my clothes," and for the first time it seemed Jampa might sob- but her face went hard again and she slid herself into the new clean robes without fuss. "I can't." She bit her lip lightly. "And I won't."

Like a weight had entered the room the two of them sat on either side of their cell with the remaining clothes in the middle. Meli tried meditating to clear her mind while Jampa pulled at herself and fidgeted. Meditation yielded nothing. Her mind stayed less a calm sky and more a stormy sea. Somewhere in a pile they were burning her glider. She'd made it herself- though a few of the Nuns corrected the balanced. Her homework for history class- she'd never know if she'd gotten Avatar Yangchen's biography right. They were going to rip the Temple down stone by stone; she just knew it and the feeling it left in her stomach felt just like falling. She was hungry and tired despite all the sleeping and—

A wall opened and flooded the room with light. Four solders looked in at them from behind their full face masks. One motioned for the two of them and the rest seemed ready. For something. An attack?

The two Airbenders exchanged looks. Mali imagined they could fight. They never had before but they could get away. From wherever this was. Fly off into the sunset and get help.

"If you resist," began the shortest lightly. Mali remembered his voice from her dream. The one who had carried her here. "It's the smallest one who will suffer for it."

Jampa looked at the two of them as if trying to see which was shorter but Mali knew exactly what he meant. "Dorje."

How long had it been since it happened? How many of her people, some even smaller than seven, had he crushed under that large red boot? Mali shivered to herself.

The man held out his arms as if they had a choice and the two girls, one at least feeling smaller than ever, walked out of the room as carefully as possible.

It was a corridor that went on for a while. They stopped three more times to open locked doors before the venue changed entirely. Instead of stark walls of steel it was a decorated Fire Nation room. It was too much. Like someone had crammed everything Fire Nation into one room. The painting of Fire Lord Sozin stared down at her from the ceiling and the rows of cushioned couches looked comfortable and inviting. There were images of dragons in the wallpaper. But oddest of all was the prettiest woman Mali had ever seen standing to the side with a large book.

The two of them were forcibly plopped down on the third couch. The woman smiled at both of them, taking the time to eye Jampa's head, but said nothing. Mali focused on her breathing. In and out. She was somewhere far away.

"Mali! Jampa!" Dorje had her own guards- the only thing keeping her from rushing to the older girls for support. She wore the Fire Nation robes and was set down in the first row. Jampa made an effort to smile but it was the least believable thing Mali had seen in a while. Nothing like the ones at the Temple when they played. She reached out her hand and Jampa took the little bit of strength it carried to tide her over.

Khalama and Lasya were brought together and put in the second row. They wore the Fire Nation robes too and Mali couldn't help but feel betrayed. Lasya sobbed the way Mali wanted to but they were still all in enemy colors. She was alone even with hands held tight.

There was an odd moment where things were silent and the woman stared at all of them like creatures rather than girls. The only sound was Lasya's crying and the shifting of fabric as Dorje tried to navigate a dress a bit too long. The woman tapped her foot lightly.

Then, like it was a story, Khalama raised her hand. Like they had to when they visited that Earth Kingdom School with the Nuns. It had been a lovely trip. It was out of place here. But like dream logic the woman brightened and leaned out her arm to call on her. "Yes?"

"What is this, why are we here, who are you, and everyone in the world is going to hate you!" each statement was thrown out at rapid speed and the mood changed in the room. Every question Mali had wanted to ask was now out in the air- and she didn't need to know. Now that they'd been asked all she needed was _out_. But the two guards just for her rushed forward as if they could sense the mood too. The woman walked with new purpose, like a fire had been lit in her veins, and Khalama was slapped hard enough that she cried out in hurt and surprise with the book the woman had been carrying. No Nun had every struck them. Not ever.

The woman smiled. "Those were some very good questions."

She walked back to the front of the room and opened the book as if nothing had happened. "This is the first day of your new lives, you're here because not everyone in the Fire Nation believes a good Nomad is a dead nomad—" She paused for a moment. "Some of us simply believe you have to kill the Nomad inside of them."

It was insanity. She was an experiment. Everyone was dead and she was an experiment for some madwoman who wasn't making any sense. Kill the Nomad inside of them? It wasn't inside of them it was who they were. They couldn't stop being Air Nomads anymore than they could stop Airbending. Lasya began crying harder and Jampa stared down at the carpet to avoid any of their eyes. It was Dorje this time who raised her hand and all the older girls went white. If this woman would hit eleven year old Khalama she'd hit Dorje just as easily.

But this time the woman simply patted her on the head. Lightly. "Hm?"

"Who are you?" asked the youngest girl. "May I go home now?"

"I am your new teacher Ms. Lin and you are home, silly," she went back to smiling again and Mali could only listen with growing horror. "You're all wondering why I'm telling you this. Why I don't just let things happen as they will."

Mali was more concerned this woman would murder them all in their sleep but nodded all the same. It seemed safest.

"I need you all to understand I, and the other teachers here, are not liars. We're doing this for your own benefit and for the hope of a better future. If this succeeds there'll be no need for members of the Water Tribe to die when their time comes the way your people have. Only improved…"

Hope. The Nuns said it was a distraction from the truth— how right that the word should appear in this place. The implications of the speech made her dizzy, Mali tried to focus on what the words meant but it only made her sicker, she joined Jampa in staring at the floor.

"Anymore questions?" The room was silent as a gravesite. Ms. Lin flipped to another page in her book and wrote something down. "Very good. Those of you who put on your new clothes may join me for dinner."

With two to each girl the soldiers hauled her friends up and out another door. She was left alone with her two and Ms. Lin. The room suddenly seemed smaller than ever. No one had time to say goodbye to her.

"As the only girl to keep that ugly thing on you'll have no dinner and no opportunities for rewards," said Ms. Lin. "A shame for you."

"Wait!" said Meli, who couldn't remember her last meal after all that had happened, but she was hauled back through the corridor, back through the doors that locked and into her cell once more. It felt darker than ever.

Meli pulled at her hair and thought. Kill the Nomad inside. That's what the madwoman had said. Well that would never work: there were still the other temples to come and rescue them. She'd probably lied to keep them from escaping. "My name is Meli and I'm an Air Nomad. I can bend. I'll earn my arrows soon. I'm not alone."

She meditated with that as her mantra to ignore the growing hunger. Didn't put on the clothes that still sat in her space.

It couldn't have been more than a day but everything had changed. She wouldn't change with it.


	3. Endurance

(A/N: Not mine.)

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**Endurance**

Time was difficult to measure here in her cell with no windows. Every so often the hole in the wall would open and someone would look to see if she'd put on the clothes but it went by quickly. If she had to guess she'd say it had been at least three days. Maybe more. Her stomach growled but she tried to ignore it. She imagined herself like a Guru or the wisest Monks, with her bones sticking out of her skin, and the greatest wisdom in her head. She could transcend the hunger and find a better place.

Sitting alone her mind wandered to all that had happened. The blood dripping off the sides of the Temple, the look on Ms. Lin's face, the faces of her friends and family who burned with a comet high in the sky that could not hold them.

Mali was more thirsty than tired really. Everytime she'd tried fasting at the Temple there had been plenty of water. The Nuns made sure of it. Mali was lonely too. Had they given Jampa her own room? Was she is isolation? That's what it felt like alone in an empty room with memories too big for one head. These people were murderers and monsters who talked about science and opportunities like they were playing fair. No, she'd endure all suffering because that's what Nomads did.

And that's who she is.

Health. Safety. Dignity.

_What was going to happen to the other four while she was in here?_

Letting it go. She was at peace.

_What if Ms. Lin was really telling the truth and they're all dead? _

Even with the Fire Bending at highest capacity they couldn't get all four Temples and everyone who was traveling. That would take so much force and planning and-.

_What if the Water Tribes are really next? Don't you have a duty to escape? To warn them?_

She didn't know the grander scheme of politics and planning. She just knew there were people dead and they weren't coming back. That she was trapped until she figured out the layout of this place.

Which she couldn't do in here.

_It's only a robe._

A robe from the nation that murdered her people. A week ago and they were alive. They were arguing about Airball and hairstyles and boys. They were flying.

_If you pretend to play along you can find a way out. And protect the rest._

She could feel her heart beat harder in her chest. A true Airbender could endure this. But they needed her. She was oldest and closest to her arrows.

_What if they die because you're too selfish to wear a little red?_

How long could a person last without food? Without water? She felt dizzy. It had to have been more than three days now. Time ticked slowly past her.

The door opened. She'd been more asleep than meditating but the sudden sound made her turn. Mali had been sitting in one place for too long. She was slow to move away from her main guard. In her head she'd been thinking of him as the shorter one but he was still much taller than she was and with no one else around it seemed a misnomer for her monster man.

She expected him to grab her, to hurt her or make another threat against one of her friends, but instead he held out a canteen. "It's juice. I just want to talk to you."

"No." Mali couldn't imagine he had anything to say that she wanted to hear. She looked past him into the hallway. Could she push him? She wasn't very fast or very strong without food. Even standing might end badly for her- if the room kept spinning the way it had been.

"Hey," he said. He bent down on his armored knee and held it out to her again. Like she was a frightened animal. "Come on. No one wants you to die. Just take it and I'll show you something pretty."

Mali was curious despite herself. Pretty? Of all of the things she might want he went for pretty? But she was so thirsty. Careful she reached out for the canteen. "I'm not putting it on."

He shrugged his shoulders back and forth. "Sure you will."

"What makes you think that?"

"No reason." The man spread his hands and some of the liquid fell out of the container. Wasteful. "You could just wear your underwear instead."

The non sequitur made her jump back and shake her head. "Please leave."

The canteen was still being held out invitingly. "That's not how negotiations work."

Finally she grabbed it and he laughed. It was filled with juice just like he said, and though the flavor was foreign and strange, it was still better than anything she'd ever tasted before. She drained the entire canteen easily and still wished for more, but now he was staring at her. Mali wished she could see his face from behind the helmet— she imagined he was smiling and the thought of it made her skin crawl. She imagined he was an orphan. She imagined that nobody loved him or cared about what happened to him. But instead he simply gestured for the two of them to go. "Can you walk?"

She tried, but even with the water the room would not cooperate by keeping still. She took a deep breath. "Yes."

Any thought of escape was gone in this moment- she managed to follow him out and down the narrow hallway, in her daze she knew it was a different way than before but couldn't pin point how, and up flights of stairs. He had to support her through most of it but she did it. No one could say she didn't walk. Finally he unlocked and opened the final door. Outside.

The sky was just as large as she remembered it and the sea was strong. There was a wisp of wind and she knew it could support her and her glider if given the chance. Mali smiled and opened up her arms. The air was still there. In her cell everything seemed stagnant and stale but out here her element still did its best to fly.

His hand was on her shoulder. "Look down."

She did. The building itself had the layout of a spiderfly— one large fat middle section and long twisting passages reaching out from it. The rocks below were jagged and rough on all sides and the ocean crashed harshly all around it.

"I just wanted you to understand where you are," he said. "Look off to the sides- there's no land for miles in three directions and if you pick the wrong way you'll just end up in the Fire Nation."

"I know," she said. Despite that she looked up at the sky and wondered. Air Nomads had made long trips on their own before. If she could find a way to make a glider and pick the right way she could do it.

But she didn't have a glider and even with a keen sense of direction she didn't know which way to go. The other nations couldn't be trusted. Maybe the Water Tribe, the other possible victims of her enemies, but who really knew for sure? She'd had friends in the Fire Nation. She'd helped them and raised money for their charities. Then the comet came and they transformed into the sorts of creatures meant to haunt nightmares instead. Mali took a deep breath. "Now what?"

"Well next you're going to put on your clothes like we agreed. Then you're probably going to get your head shaved—" Mali gave him an odd look. Was that an attempt at kindness? Her upper head did feel prickly with the hair growing back in. But he continued on and ruined that thought. "So you can grow proper hair from scratch. That half thing you guys do never looks right. Then you'll be just in time for lunch and your afternoon lessons. What's your name?"

"I didn't mean-I mean— what's going to happen to us? When they're done?" Mali nodded lightly before her mind caught up with his question. "My name?"

"Yes, I'm curious."

"Mali," she said. And somehow telling him that made her feel farther from the Temple than ever. "I'm Mali. What's going to happen to us?"

"It's a pretty name," he said. There was a pause. "I'm-"

Her stomach made another ugly gurgling sound and she felt faint. Her Guard held her up and began to carry her once more back down to her cell where she changed into the Fire Nation red just like he said she would. He was the one who removed the rest of her hair, with the wrong kind of knife for such things, and when it was all done he gave her rice to eat so she could endure what happened next. It was wonderful to eat again.

But she didn't want to know his name. Not ever.

Her second guard joined them and the three went back through the locked corridors, into the parlor room once more, until-

"Guys!" Mali smiled wide at the sight of the other four, and they seemed just as happy to see her, none of the guards bothered to stop them from embracing.

"It's been days. We worried you were dead," said Jampa in her best monotone. They all sat casually on the couches, each almost vibrating with energy now that she was here.

Mali looked them over nervously. They were all starting to grow their hair out, only tiny little things but she could see it beginning, and they still had the Fire Nation robes. But more alarming was the state of Khalama and Jampa's faces. They were bruised and swelling in nasty ways. "Khalama, Jampa, did they hit you again?"

"Nope!" chirped Khalama much too cheerfully. "In turns out we're allergic to armored fists- yes they hit me again."

"She started it," Lasya said quietly as Khalama was poked gently in the shoulder. "She tried to escape after The First Dinner by bending a guard into the wall."

Dorje yanked on Mali's robe with pride. "I didn't eat the fish either that time."

The rest of the story with the incident now referred to as The First Dinner came out it fits and starts as quickly as possible. Ms. Lin had served them fish and rice- when no one ate the fish she turned nasty. They had to say prayers to the health of the Fire Lord- which was about when Khalama decided to make a break for it and Jampa sent plates spinning. They'd both had a day in solitary confinement after that. Since then everyone had decided it was better to eat and pray. Mali tried to imagine what she would have done, if she'd been there, but found the image failed her.

"They also said we might get wigs," Jampa sighed. "While we wait."

"Bet they'll be Fire Nation red!" Khalama tossed her head as if she had the long locks already. "With yellow tassels for bangs."

They laughed, it felt wonderful to laugh despite the situation, and Mali found once started she couldn't quite stop. It wasn't that the joke was funny but that it was there to be shared with them. Only Lasya didn't join in.

"Why are you laughing?" the beginning of tears were creeping over her eyes again. "I don't know how you can joke or laugh ever ever-"

Khalama grabbed Lasya's hands tight. It was odd to think Lasya was the older of the two by a whole year— Khalama seemed intend in that moment. Strong, and beaten, and bruised. "That's _why_ I have to keep laughing. _Because_ they can't and—"

"Sister Nima says!"

The other four turned to look at Dorje, who continued to bounce. Even the guards seemed to be paying more attention. Jampa's eye twitched but the little girl continued. "Sister Nima says that the worse things are the harder the Spirits are laughing. So you should laugh with them."

"Said," reminded Jampa gently. "She said. She can't say."

Lasya tried her best to smile. "Someone must find Lessons hysterical then."

"Lessons?" Mali tried to look at all of them at once. "What are less-"

But before she could be warned Ms. Lin walked in the room with the brisk purpose of a woman with a mission and all five girls felt of joy sucked from the room with efficiency. Everyone sat straight and still in their seats and tried not to breath too hard.

"Hello, young ladies," said Ms. Lin. Mali felt the yellow eyes linger on her for a moment. "Did you enjoy your lunch?"

"Yes, Ms. Lin," said the other four girls. Though Dorje said it earnestly, Khalama said it sarcastically, Lasya said it sadly, and Jampa said it emotionlessly somehow the results were melodic in tone. Mali tried to catch up but found herself a beat behind. No one had told her the rules.

"Now that you've all decided to be good young ladies," again Mali felt the eyes on her. "I thought we could start in on the history lesson for today…"

Mali's mind began to wander in self-defense. Ms. Lin talked about the history of the Fire Nation- but kept using terms like "our" as if they were part of the Nation already. As if all it took was repeating it over and over again to be true. Her version of the world was full of inferior races, of the burden inherent in conquerors to spread the truth far and wide, of soldiers fighting for something better than what she'd seen at the Temple that day.

There was a schedule hanging up on the wall now. Their time was well organized with these Lessons in between every meal and a quiz at the end of the week. What ever that was. Mali imagined it was probably an unpleasant concept. There was a bit of time labeled 'free' but she suspected that was someone's idea of a joke.

"Young Lady?~"

It took her a moment. Mali blinked out of her daze with a start. "Me?"

Ms. Lin pursed her lips. She was still very beautiful, but now Mali could see the steel underneath and it only made her worse. "Have you been listening, Young Lady?~"

"Yes?" Mali tried to sound certain but from the looks they other girls gave her she could tell she'd already done something wrong. "I mean- Yes, Ms. Lin?"

"Then what did I just say?"

How odd, that was the sort of traps the Nuns left when she was learning history back home too. There would usually be sighing when it was discovered she couldn't answer. Mali somehow doubted that Ms. Lin would respond so well. "You said I wasn't listening."

Ms. Lin motioned to a guard and he brought each fist against the side of her head. Her ears rang and she tried to imagine the pain was far away. She wouldn't cry in front of these people or this woman. The other girls tried not to look at her.

Ms. Lin pulled back the wallpaper in the front of the room- reveling a large blackboard. _It's all tricksy_, thought Mali lightly. _Doors hidden in the wall and locks everyone. Everything here has something else inside it._

Mali was pulled out of her seat and handed a piece of chalk. Ms. Lin smiled at her lightly. "I want you to take this chalk and write on the board 'I will not be like a Lazy Lying Air Nomad' until I tell you to stop." She tapped her foot. "We'll check in on you now and then to make sure you're paying attention."

She stared at the board for a moment speechless. Really? Ms. Lin had turned her back on the situation and continued her lecture, the other girls more intent to pay attention than ever. Jampa was the only one to make eye contact- she tapped the bruises lightly. A warning.

Mali had only just gotten out. Though she was fed for the moment she knew her stomach would need more soon. She needed to get to dinner. She needed her people close enough to reach.

Mali told herself a lie repeated was still a lie and began to write on the wall.


	4. Repressed

A/N: Not Mine. An in between sort of chapter. Thank you so much for your kind reviews.

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**Repressed**

It had been two months but Mali was finally starting to understand the routine.

Her life was limited to three rooms and the halls that connected them: her cell, the Parlor like Class Room, and the Dinning Room.

Her cell had improved with 'good behavior', the lack of the open bad behavior she wanted to scream at them until their ears bled, with a mattress on one side and a chamber pot on the other.

Every morning she was woken up by a knock on her door and a set of robes were put into the hole in the wall. It was roughly five minutes before the guards would come to get her— if she were unprepared to go they would leave her there until the next day with no food. A nasty surprise when she figured that out. And when she missed a day of classes she got behind the rest Ms. Lin would intentionally ask her questions she couldn't know, slapped her, and then had her write lines of lies about her people when she got them wrong.

_She's having us all focus on the small things to survive_, thought Mail. In her anxiety she ran her fingers through her new itchy inch of hair. _So we don't have the energy for the big important things like getting out._

Knowing that didn't change things as much as she thought.

Morning Lessons were all Fire Nation Culture. They learned what the women in Court wore, what was an appropriate pet, and stories better suited for small children who needed help going to sleep. Folk Tales about the spirits who guarded and guided the Fire Nation, and the Royal Family that could best them all. Dorje loved the stories but Mali couldn't keep track of the order or why. If there was a lesson plan it eluded her. It felt like Ms. Lin was making things up as she went along but every so often she would write in her book and they'd change course again.

The image of the Fire Lord on the ceiling had eyes that followed you wherever you went. It took her the first month to realize he was also smiling: the slightest hint of one at the corner of his lips. Like he knew a joke and wasn't telling.

Lasya spent a lot of time looking up at him. Ms. Lin would ask them to focus and Lasya would dart back to attention like a bird fluttering about; but she still looked at it all the same.

At least she'd stopped crying.

Breakfast and lunch were simple. They all said prayers to the Fire Lord in the Class Room and ate what they could. There was no consequence for avoiding the flesh of animals.

There was a brief time where after lunch they were allowed exercise, but Khalama had mistaken it for opportunity and tried to push her way out. In her mind's eye Mali was beginning to forget what her friend looked like without the black eye or the bruises. What she looked like without the wince of pain.

"Can't you just let them _think_ they're winning?" Lasya had whispered to her, but Khalama turned her face away from the sound.

Instead of all ten guards there at all times there were five at all times with alterations and changes. With their helmets on she couldn't keep track of anything. They seemed more like the machines they used that day and not human beings. She could pick out her Main Guard in the group, the one who would speak with her, but only because he stepped so lightly. In another life she might have teased him for it.

Afternoon Lessons were all history, though warped as if seen through a pane of broken glass. Mali had liked history at home, going on adventures with the Nuns and exploring other cultures had been wonderful, but sitting in the room with the half truths and blatant lies strung up over her head was-

She had to remember each one. There was an or else attached if she forgot any details. When Ms. Lin talked about the Air Nomads she knew what was false and what was true but sometimes there were doubts about other details.

Had Avatar Roku really been friends with the Fire Lord? Mali knew very little about Avatars to begin with but it seemed… wrong somehow.

Was the Earth Kingdom really full of internal strife? She remembered bits of conflict when they'd visited last time but not to the degree Ms. Lin described. She made it sound like they were an earthquake away from sinking into the sea again.

What about the Northern Water Tribe? She'd only met a few members of the place before. The man had been fearsome and strict but Mali hadn't thought there was anything wrong with that. The Nuns had talked to them the way they talked to most everyone. Ms. Lin was enemy but described the weapons the men had carried in exact detail. She talked about how restricted the women there were and the limits of their bending. As Mali thought about it, thought about the Water Tribe Woman who'd smiled so kindly at them as they traveled, it was easy to imagine a longing there. The way she looked to her husband so often. Mali hadn't really thought of it that way.

Mali spent a lot of time trying to keep the information in her head without letting it wiggle into her skin. Nomads were accepting. It wasn't her place to judge when everyone was connected.

For Dinner they were all shuffled into the Dining Room and told to eat like proper Ladies. They sat guarded in lovely red chairs flecked with gold paint and drank from fancy cups. She learned to swallow fish- though it tasted of metal to her. Not eating your meat at Dinner had consequences.

"The Army was kind enough to supply us with another source of meat from the Air Temple," said Ms. Lin calmly. "If you don't like fish you're welcome to bison."

Mali had no way of knowing if it was true but she wasn't going to find out.

After Dinner there was light conversation usually guided by Ms. Lin. Mali would try to talk to the rest and they'd try to talk to her, but anything useful could only be said as whispers in between other things. Quickly when a guard seemed distracted or Ms. Lin had her eye on someone causing trouble. They were never alone.

Then it was a shower, simple, quick, guards trying not to embarrass her but still standing too close, and then back to her cell again.

If nothing else it was consistent. Sometimes it was so consistent she forgot to be frightened. But then Ms. Lin would say something about her people or the eyes of a soldier would look at her through the hole in the wall and the smoke would fill her lungs again.

She'd repeat her old mantra with the same certainty then. _My name is Mali and I'm an Air Nomad. I can bend. I'll earn my arrows soon. I'm not alone._

She wondered sometimes if that was quite enough. Should she try to add the names of all her friends? When classes were extra awful she found her mind would go over the recipes for Fruit Pies. She'd been very good at making them. Everyone said so.

But those were just the bits and pieces of her. Interests and things she liked. A mantra was about defining who you were. She was Mali the Airbender and that was what they could not stomp out of her. Not ever.

And during classes she could still hold Jampa's hand as they sat side by side. On their own couch Lasya and Khalama would do the same. Dorje sat alone in the front and Mali wished very badly she could embrace her.

How would someone so young react to a lonely room all to herself? At night Mali wanted to pound at the walls like she did the first day as everything closed in on her. She couldn't imagine it for Dorje. Mali tried her best to be tall, to be the oldest, when she did get to see Dorje and maybe the rest would work itself out. An example.

She knew Lasya wasn't sleeping. The circles under her eyes gave that away.

After Dinner one night a chance appeared she hadn't expected. A game.

Ms. Lin smiled at them all and had them stand in a small circle. Her gold eyes shined with good cheer. "You've all been-" A quick look at Khalama especially. "_mostly_ good for a little while now. How about something fun?"

There was a small silence as Ms. Lin waited for an answer. Dorje managed to shout hers out first with all the enthusiasm of her age. "Airball?"

Jampa closed her eyes and Mali remembered in a distant sort of way how talented she had been. No one could beat Jampa when she was on the move. But Ms. Lin simply laughed and nodded out a no. "Something a little simpler than that."

The game was called Messenger Hawk and though Khalama rolled her eyes the idea of it made Dorje giggle. One person whispered a phrase into the next ones ear and it went down the line until the last person spoke it out loud again. If they got the word right you won.

"If you don't," Ms. Lin laughed lightly. "Well it's still fun isn't it?"

Lasya hardly raised her voice when she spoke. "Um, is that all, ma'am?"

She had a point. It seemed too easy. But Ms. Lin simply repeated the rules to them against as if they were stupid, the book that had struck them so many times still stuck under her arm, and the game began.

Ms. Lin whispered in Dorje ear, who whispered in Jampa's ear, but the sound that was whispered into Mali's ear seemed unlikely to be from the likes of Ms. Lin. A bit of potential. "What about a boat?"

Mali tried to keep her face neutral, calm and meditative without a hint of surprise, and repeated the phrase to Khalama who laughed. When Khalama passed it to Lasya her eyes widened but she stayed calm. "Was it, um, 'sore throat'?"

Dorje bounced. "Lasya! It was pig goat!"

Ms. Lin seemed amused and Mali laughed just to be safe as her mind worked. A boat? With no gliders it might be a good idea. Once they knew what direction to go they could try and escape towards help.

They just needed to learn how to pilot a Fire Nation ship.

Without getting smashed out of the water.

Not to mention how to get to said boat in the first place. If there properly was one.

Mali looked up at the ceiling and tried not to sigh.

They played the next few rounds correctly, Mali had no way of knowing what the others were thinking but she knew Ms. Lin was smart and paying attention, but after three rounds she took the risk and switched them back again. "We'd need the keys first."

Lasya smiled cheerfully when the time came. "I don't know. But lets try? The, um, word again I mean."

It was nothing, the slightest bit of planning, but it was wonderful to know it was there. Mali felt her mood lift considerably and they traded little bits of ideas until they were all taken their separate ways again. She knew floating would land her a bruise or two but for once she felt like she truly could. Her bending was only a plan away.

Her cot had a proper frame now and dark red bed sheets. She allowed herself annoyance. "Doesn't the Fire Nation have any other colors?"

"We have dark red, crimson, fuchsia, and red!" offered her Main Guard. Mali kicked herself for imagining a moment of privacy and stuck out her tongue. That much at least he couldn't see through the door and the dark. And no one was there to call her childish.

When she got to bed she dreamt of red waves, but the storm subsided and she flew forward into bright blue skies.

Until Ms. Lin changed the rules of the world again.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Avatar


	5. The Avatar

A/N: Not mine.

* * *

**The Avatar**

Something grabbed her and she screamed, a sudden start, and Mali knew in that moment she was going to die. The late night early morning panic of a surprise wake up, and before she could form a more coherent thought than the feeling fear seeped into her skin the guards had her dragged out to the Common Room and stood her against the wall. All the couches and things for Lessons had been removed and the room felt bare. Only the Fire Lord above remained the same.

It wasn't cold but she shivered in her nightclothes. The room was silent in the way of skies before storms.

_I didn't even try to defend myself,_ she thought. _It didn't occur to me to try._

Khalama, Jampa, and Lasya were all brought in quickly. No Dorje. The four of them looked at each other with frantic eyes while Mali tried not to think about where the last of them could be. It had to mean the youngest was safe. Had to. Before any of them could speak Ms. Lin entered. If this place had turned into a storm Ms. Lin was the eye of it; fierce and lovely, but most of all angry- to the point where it seemed to crackle off her skin in shots of electricity. Her dark hair was down over her shoulders and her eyes were sharp and bright.

"I just received word from the Capitol!" Ms. Lin began to pace back and forth as she spoke. "And do you know what I've discovered?"

Mali looked at the others to avoid looking at her. Lasya looked up, Khalama looked down and bit her lip, only Jampa looked straight ahead. Mali said a quiet prayer of thanks to any spirits who might have been listening that Khalama didn't make a joke. Not in the mood this strange woman was in.

Their silence only seemed to enrage her more. She tapped her shoe against the floor like the beating of a drum. "I've learned that this entire program is at risk because one of you!" She made a sound that might have been a laugh. "One of you is a _liar_. And the rest of you _helped_."

Before Mali could begin to imagine what that meant Ms. Lin was on the move. "Everyone say your ages. Now."

"Fourteen," Mali managed to choke out.

"Thirteen," said Jampa carefully.

"Twelve," said Lasya. And before Khalama could insist on her eleven Ms. Lin struck. She grabbed Lasya and pulled her forward by the nightgown she wore, into another room. Mali hadn't even realized there was a door there. She couldn't keep track.

"Hey!" Khalama rushed forward, and when that didn't work she pushed at guards, and the air flowed with her. "Where are you taking her? Give her back!"

Mali tried to stop shivering. "We have a right to know what's going on."

It was the wrong thing to say. They didn't have any rights at all in this place. For all their insistence the guards didn't say a word back. Mali couldn't place _Her_ Guard among them. They were a five man monolith. Jampa continued to stare straight ahead, her face scrunched in thought.

The door opened again and Lasya was thrown out. She was agile and didn't fall, but Mali suspected she should have. It would have fit the situation. Ms. Lin marched past her and grabbed Khalama the same way. Only Khalama kicked at her and the guards soon had to carry her like a small child throwing a tantrum. "Let go! Don't touch me!"

Ms. Lin snarled at them all. "I should have known it was going to be you. Little—"

The door closed before Mali could hear exactly what Khalama was. She could guess. Lasya rushed over to them and the three embraced without any guard stopping them.

"The Avatar!" and though she squeaked it through tears her tone was sure. "They didn't get the Avatar! So now she thinks it must be one of us!"

"The Avatar?" Jampa looked more confused than excited. "But everyone knows—"

She looked at the guards and stopped suddenly with a lopsided nod to her friends. Mali tried to think. The Avatar? Everyone knew the Avatar was an Air Nomad this cycle and a boy. She hadn't heard much else. He was younger than her and she honestly hadn't paid that much attention when there was so much else to be done right there at home. She remembered there was an argument among the Nuns as to what Temple he would be sent to, but they'd lost and that had been the end of it.

The end of it in more ways than she wanted to think about.

The Avatar was still out there and that meant he was _somewhere_. Doing _something_. They had someone to go to who they knew would be happy to see them. Who cared about what happened to them. Maybe he was in the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribe. Maybe he was renegotiating. Maybe he was coming to the rescue.

But he was out there and they were in here with a Nation that didn't even know he was a _he_. Mali tapped Lasya lightly on the shoulder. "What happened in there? What did, I mean, now they know you're not the Avatar right?"

"She didn't seem satisfied or anything. She just asked me a whole bunch of questions at once," Lasya nodded. "That's not so bad just—"

But before any warning could be handed out it was Mali who was hauled in next.

It was a tiny room and Ms. Lin stood close. "Name them."

"What?" said Mali. It seemed the closest to the right response. "I'm fourteen. I can't be-"

"Some girls start very young. Name them. All of the Avatars. Come on." Ms. Lin didn't hurt her but the energy in the room kept tightening. It would be a fierce blow when it did arrive.

Mali wished she'd paid more attention to this part of her education. The last person to talk to her about Avatars had been Ms. Lin herself with her stories of the Fire Nation. "Avatar Roku, and, well, Avatar Yangchen was the last Air Nomad Avatar, we have a statue of her—"

"I said in order." Her voice was steel.

Concentrate. Mali tried to remember the one from the Water Tribe. But it was such a long time ago. "Avatar Yangchen, Avatar No—"

Ms. Lin's hand struck the curve of Mali's throat, she couldn't breathe and fell to the floor below, gasping for what she once took for granted. She felt herself cough in a distant view. Ms. Lin began to tap her foot again. "I can't stand liars but ignorance is even worse."

It hurt, but she got back up again so Ms. Lin could throw her to her people. Lasya tried patting her back as she coughed and coughed. She could feel the bruises starting to form over her throat.

"New method!" said Ms. Lin. "How to spot the Avatar. Hm."

"None of us are the Avatar," said Jampa.

Kalama interrupted. "If I was do you think I'd be _here_?"

They were all ignored and the guards behind them grabbed their arms once more. Ms. Lin began to count to herself. When she got to ten she began again. "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed. I expected better from all of you. We're going to have to resort to less pleasant methods to know for sure."

Less pleasant. It was a nice was to say an ugly thing. The fifth guard lit his hand, a small flame, but Mali stiffened at the sight of it. Fire's had been a distant threat since that day. She wanted to run far away from the flames that now seemed much too close. The flames that could easily engulf the compound, the people, the world. She tried to turn away despite her restraint.

Ms. Lin turned to the Guard with the fire burning bright. "The Avatar could block it even with their arms strung." She paused and looked at them all. "Who should I start with?"

Mali closed her eyes and prepared for the worst. She'd stopped coughing at least. It would be the least of her hurts today. _My name is Mali, I'm an Air Nomad, and I will __**endure.**_

But Khalama took her deepest breathe, and suddenly she and her guard both were pushed back into the wall with the force inherent in her movement. She ran forward and the Fire Guard grabbed her hand in his, her scream of pain and surprise radiating off the walls.

"How nice," said Ms. Lin. "A volunteer."

"Khalama!" Lasya struggled to be freed as their friend continued to burn.

Jampa stared straight into Ms. Lin. "She's only eleven. She can't be. Stop it."

A yawn. "Enough. She's just a problem child it seems. Next?"

It smelled of burning but Khalama was blessedly silent. She held her arm up as an odd symbol of defeat until her guard picked her up and carried her away.

"Where?" began Jampa, but between Lasya's tears and Mali's cough she was interrupted by all.

"Give me a reason I should trust anything you people say? How can I trust you're not an enemy of the Fire Nation?" Ms. Lin was all-calm. It was so sudden. She was a woman of many moods and they snapped to and fro with something close to ease.

Wasn't that a trick question? Of course they were enemies. The Fire Nation had come into their home and killed their, her, everything and they were supposed to pretend everything could be okay? After all this fear Mali was almost grateful to feel the disgust which now crept over her skin. How they dare they. How dare this _place_—

"Because," said Jampa in her best monotone. Her eyes were glossy and bright. "Everyone knows the Avatar was at the Northern Air Temple. We're all from the West. From here. Everyone knows that."

Lasya looked confused and Mali wished she could stomp her foot or keep her silent. Jampa had lied with their lives on the line, without even asking first, there was nothing they could do now but pretend it was the truth. Mali nodded her head and croaked through the agony in her throat. "Yes, everyone knows. That way they could go straight to the Northern Water Tribe for training. It was efficient."

The Fire Nation seemed like the sort of people who appreciated efficiency. Air Nomads preferred the scenic route but she didn't have to know that. Ms. Lin eyes them all one by one. "We'll check with the other two. If you three are lying we'll find out."

"We're, um, not! Promise!" Lasya blurted out in earnest.

The tension slowly leaked back out of the room and Ms. Lin sighed. "I believe you."

Mali couldn't help but smile. Jampa winked at her, but it was possible it was only the light. It hardly seemed in her nature.

"But I'll be keeping my eyes open," Ms. Lin said. She straightened her clothes with something close to dignity. "And I expect you all to be extra informed and attentive at lessons tomorrow." She made a gesture to the guards. "You may go."

The energy drained from her body and Mali allowed herself to cough and drag her feet as her guard walked her forward. It was too late, or maybe it was too early, to be properly awake. Her mind though, continued to buzz with excitement. The Avatar was still alive. He was their age even; they could be friends. He was also only twelve. The same age as Lasya, only a year older than Khalama, practically children.

She was the oldest Air Nomad in the world. _That I know of,_ she reminded herself. _That we know of. _

It would be better if he got here soon. Another night like this and there might not be anything left to save.

She whispered another prayer for Khalama and tried her best not to hope one way or the other.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Interlude I


End file.
